Supernova
by Infinite Rhapsody
Summary: Alex's new assignment will catapult him across the world with one goal: to stop the hell that's coming. There's no going back once you learn about Operation Supernova. It's either save the world...or die with it. AxS, AxOC, WxJ
1. Birthday Present

**SUPERNOVA**

**BY SIENNA RHIANNON CHASE**

**SUMMARY: Alex's new assignment will catapult him across the world with one goal: to stop the hell that's coming. There's no going back once you learn about Operation Supernova. It's either save the world...or die with it. AxS, AxOC, WxJ**

**CHAPTER ONE**

**BIRTHDAY PRESENT**

"Alex! Wake up!" yelled a familiar voice into his ear.

Alex Rider opened his eyes and groaned. It was a Saturday, and one of the few days in a year that he wasn't a subject of a criminal organization's assassination attempts. He wasn't about to miss a few extra hours of sleep, especially when he couldn't count on the fact he would even be in England the following night.

"Alex!" shouted Jack Starbright, his guardian and closest friend, again, this time nearly deafening him. "ALEX!"

"I'm trying to sleep, Jack," he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow.

"It's your birthday. You can't wake up late on your birthday, you goose!"

Alex moaned again. "Jack…just a few more minutes…"

"Fine." The American housekeeper stalked out of the room, her soft slippers scuffing the floor. Alex closed his eyes, rejoicing that he would get fifteen more minutes of sleep before his friend's voice brought him out of his dreams.

Suddenly, a great fountain of ice-cold water cascaded onto his bed, soaking both him and his blankets. He started up, rubbing his eyes miserably, to see Jack standing by his bed with a bucket in her hands.

"Jack, that was low," he remarked blearily, heading to his closet to grab his clothes.

"I know," replied the young woman proudly, a grin on her face.

"Okay. Now get out," he said, gently pushing Jack out of the room. "I have to change."

"If you mean change your clothes, yes, you do," babbled the American, eyeing his old pajamas. "If you mean change your _ways_, well, you could always try counseling—or joining a gang—" Jack was still talking when he shut the door.

Ten minutes later, Alex was dressed and downstairs for breakfast. Jack had made her trademark scrambled eggs, and he'd gobbled them up like he was a starving animal. The living room downstairs was decorated with a butcher-paper birthday banner that Jack had made herself, her messy scrawl spelling out a celebratory message.

"So," said Jack, when Alex had eaten his last bite. "I was thinking of going out somewhere."

"If by 'somewhere' you mean a clothing store that only women shop at, I'll think I'll pass," grinned Alex. "Now, if by 'somewhere' you mean Nike, count me in."

"Alex, you moron." Jack slapped Alex on the head with a spatula, causing him to choke on the Coke he was drinking. "I'm not going to drag you to Macy's or DKNY on your birthday."

"Oh, good. You had me a little scared there."

Jack rolled her eyes. "Instead, I'm going to take you to Bath and Body Works."

"JACK!" exclaimed Alex in real horror. "I'd rather die than go there." He stopped, remembering the countless times he had actually come close to dying. "Okay, I'd rather take Scorpia on single-handedly than spend my _birthday _at a—at a bloody _spa _store."

"Ooh. Harsh."

"They are," said Alex with complete seriousness. Just a few months ago, he'd survived several attempts on his life by the ruthless gang. He'd nearly died at the hands of Scorpia—and his parents had been killed by them when he was just a baby. He'd got a score to settle with them, but facing them alone was complete madness.

"Come on, Alex. Can't we spend one day without stupid MI6 or the CIA or ASIS or whoever getting in the way of having fun?" begged Jack, giving the boy a quick hug. She hated the fact that the secret services of the world regularly employed her charge for spy work. She constantly worried that he'd be injured or worse by organizations like Scorpia.

"I wish I could forget about them, Jack, but they don't really give me a choice." MI6 had even threatened to deport Jack, whose visa had expired, if Alex didn't cooperate with them.

Jack hugged Alex again. "It'll be okay, Alex. They'll stop pestering you and let you live a normal life and marry Sabina and make babies—"

Alex knew Jack was trying to distract him, but he was still incredibly embarrassed. "JACK!"

The American smiled crookedly. "I know. I'm psychic."

It was Jack's turn to be assaulted by a spatula.

"Hey! Hey!" she yelled, dodging the blows. She threw her hands up. "Tell you what, we'll go to Nike and then to a nice restaurant for lunch, and you'll forget I ever said that. Deal?"

"Deal," grunted Alex, running upstairs to grab his wallet.

Unbeknownst to the two friends, a man clad all in black was clinging to the tree by Alex's window, one hand clutching the limb of the giant oak and the other holding an AK-47. A message, somewhat garbled, came in through his ear radio.

"Don't yeh worry, boss." The man had a thick Cockney accent, twisting his reply. "Oi'll 'ave 'im taken care o' by the evenin'. An', o' course, the matter of my pay—" The "boss" interrupted. "O' course, o' course. Af'r the job.." Smiling grimly, the man leaned in towards the window as Alex came into the room. "'Ere's yehr birthday present, Alex Roider." He brought up his gun and fired.

**A/N: Suspenseful huh huh? Yes, I know it's short. I also know that I haven't got a very good written Cockney accent…I was working off Hagrid from HP. The next chapter is already written, I just need to do some editing, so that should be up soon. Don't worry, the chapters will start getting longer. In chapter two, Alex…well…rants. It's kind of a filler, but not quite. The action picks up in chapters three and four though!**

**Sienna**


	2. Anger Management

**SUPERNOVA**

**DISCLAIMER: Realized I forgot to put this in last chappie. My bad. In any case, I'm not Anthony Horowitz...duh.**

**CHAPTER TWO**

**ANGER MANAGEMENT**

Alex saw the gunman when it was almost too late. He dived to the floor as fifteen rounds emptied themselves into his door, right where his head had been a microsecond ago. The cracks resonated through his skull, and he silently willed Jack not to come upstairs. She'd be hurt for sure.

"Face meh loike a _man_, boy!" grunted the assassin, firing again. Alex rolled to the side and sprang to his feet.

"That's a paradox. Obviously, they didn't choose you for your brains," Alex wanted to say, but didn't. Instead, he dived behind his bed at such an angle that the killer couldn't see he was reaching under it for something he'd thrown under there when he was small, a toy that might save his life. He found it and was relieved to see it hadn't broken.

He jumped up swiftly, moving towards the window, zigzagging back and forth to make it harder for the man to hit him. He kicked the glass aside and leaped onto the tree, dropping in a controlled fall until he hit one of the lowest branches, taking the impact on the balls of his feet. Yes, he had the angle he needed now.

He brought up his old BB gun and fired.

But not at the assassin.

He emptied the old toy onto the thick branch the masked man was standing on, perforating it through. He waited for a second, dodging the killer's now-sporadic bullets. The branch, however, didn't seem to be breaking…

It must need some extra weight.

Alex jumped up, using stray branches to give himself momentum, until he landed powerfully on the limb, startling the man so much he didn't even shoot him. The branch broke, but Alex was forewarned. He grabbed onto the tree trunk as the assassin fell, yelling loudly.

Alex dropped onto a stable branch and grinned down at the unconscious gunman. "If I said I was just _going out on a limb _here, would you write me off as cliché?"

Jack chose that moment to rush upstairs, a boning knife held high above her head in a hurriedly assumed, rather cheesy karate pose. When she got to the window and saw Alex climbing casually back up to his room, and the assassin lying insensate in her garden, she nearly fainted, but recovered when her uninjured friend made it back through the window.

"Alex!" she cried, dusting him off in a frenzy. "You could have been killed!"

"Like _that _works on me anymore," replied the teenager somewhat bitterly. So some gang—probably Scorpia—had tried to kill him for a reason that would surely be linked to MI6 or one of the other merciless, rival secret services of the world. If past experiences were any evidence, this would surely lead to some new mission from one of the aforementioned top-secret agencies. _So much for a quiet birthday._

"Tell you what. I'll phone the police, and then we'll go to Nike like I promised—"

"No, we won't. Someone from MI6 will come with the police once they hear that this situation involved _me, _and I'll be spirited away to the Royal & General and be blackmailed into some new, practically impossible assignment, during which I will have to stay alive, kill the bad guys, and save the world, all without a weapon," yelled Alex angrily, stalking towards the door.

"Alex, do this, Alex, do that! I wonder what Alan Blunt does every morning when he wakes up. Does he ask himself, _How will I manipulate Alex Rider today? _Does he ever wonder why I seriously considered joining Scorpia? Because of them! All they do is try and force me to do what they want, even as they lie through their teeth to me, even if it's supposed to be too dangerous! I was shot and nearly killed a few months ago, and what's their new mission for me? Go into freaking space! Just you wait; they'll want me to stop the apocalypse single-handedly soon. It's all because of my stupid family! My dad and uncle were spies, so I get forced to do all sorts of crap when they're killed! And do I ever get a choice? Could I choose whether I wanted to investigate the Stormbreakers? No! They'd have deported you, imprisoned you, if I hadn't done what they wanted! And—"

"Alex," interrupted Jack.

Alex continued his rant without stopping. "—and I save thousands of British schoolchildren, earning myself a pat on the back, and nothing more! When I was trying to convince Sabina I was a spy, they kept up the stupid Royal & General act and made me look like a fool! I may have saved hundreds of thousands of lives, but when I'm really in danger at Point Blanc, do they come and take me? Nope! I have to escape myself! When I think Damian Cray is up to something? I'm thrown out onto the street! When—"

"_Alex,_" inserted Jack, more urgently this time. "Behind you."

Alex turned around to see Mrs. Jones and Alan Blunt standing in the doorway. They both looked rather shell-shocked. Blunt was the first to recover.

"Well, my boy, I never knew you had such angst in you," he remarked thoughtfully.

"I'm not your boy, and I never will be your agent," said Alex vehemently, still furious. "I'll leave the country if that's what it takes to get away from you people."

"Alex!" Jack interjected, horrified, but everyone ignored her—the MI6 agents because she was a _mundane _not worthy of their attentions, Alex because he was concentrating on working out the precise angle of a kick that would break Blunt's nose, and the K.O.'ed guy because, well, he had been K.O.'ed.

"Is there a reason you're in our house? Isn't there a law against trespassing? Or does that not apply to super-special agents like you?"

Blunt pointed to the window, where several police cars were visible. "I think our reason is quite apparent."

"I don't give a damn what you think," muttered Alex, and crossed his arms.

"So it seems you've had another attempt on your life," stated Mrs. Jones, speaking for the first time as she unwrapped a peppermint.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious, for that sagacious observation. And guess what? It's your fault again. You remember the time I was shot on your freaking doorstep—"

"I never said it wasn't our fault," she said coolly, examining the bullet holes in his closet door. "The man used an AK-47?"

"Yes," replied Alex tersely.

"He seemed to have wanted to kill you the same way Gregorovich did your uncle in," she remarked, cold and businesslike.

Alex did not like the way Mrs. Jones talked about the late Ian Rider—so unfeelingly, insensitively. "Yeah, well, he could've been from Scorpia. They train them all with the same techniques."

"He could have been," was her only reply.

"Okay, so you've figured out someone is trying to kill me. Are you going to bail on me for, what, the third time, and leave me to fend for myself?"

"Of course not," Blunt grunted. "We've got an assignment for you. Come with us to the Royal & General."

Alex turned to Jack. "See? I told you they would do this." He spoke to the agents. "I don't want your assignment. You can take it back and go to hell with it."

"_Alex,_" chided Jack in a whisper.

"That's a shame. I heard that your friend Sabina Pleasure has been traveling back and forth between here and the States quite often. Such a _shame _if something rather incriminating—drugs, perhaps—were to turn up in her luggage when she comes here next. Her reputation shattered forever. Thrown out on the street by her parents. Perhaps she really would turn to drugs to escape from such a hell_._ And it'd all be your fault, my dear boy."

"Who do you think you are?" asked Alex dangerously, walking closer to Blunt. "How dare you even think about ruining her life like that?"

"I—"

Alex punched Blunt square in the face before he could reply. He stepped over the fallen man and closed his eyes briefly, running his hand over his face. They'd forced him yet again into some desperate mission. There was no end to it, was there? There was no choice. They wouldn't let him stop. He'd keep working for these ruthless people until the day he died—and what with the missions they were giving him, that date probably wasn't too far off. He had to take their stupid assignment, or else they'd shatter Sabina's life to pieces. And when the next evil mastermind decided to destroy the world, they'd blackmail him into stopping the conspiracy. It was a deadly loop of lies, deceit, and defeat.

He turned to Mrs. Jones, who had a look of knowing smugness on her face.

"I'll take the job."

**A/N: -sigh- Poor Alex. Those MI6 buttholes are just so dang manipulative. I had fun with the rant though…third chapter will be up real soon. It involves Alex acting conceited and sarcastic as well as kicking a security guard in the balls and telling Mrs. Jones to screw herself as well as some fun foreshadowing :)**

**REVIEW REPLY TIME! HOORAY!**

**(I love reviews. Hint hint.)**

**Slytherite: **Hey there! Why thank you. Nope, _this _time, the assassination failed epically. Yeah, the Wikipedia isn't that great…so read the books! They're awesome! (And drool-worthy Alex Pettyfer in the movie! :D) Um, yeah…he's a teenage British orphan spy…that is, MI6, the CIA, and the Australian Secret Service forced him to work for them six or seven times, following the murder of his spy!Uncle Ian and his spy!Dad and his…nurse!Mom, Helen. His parents, actually, were killed when he was a baby, by his godfather, spy!evil!Ash, who's basically Sirius, minus the whole wizard thing and the fact that he works for Da Ebil Organization of Death…AKA Scorpia, who nearly killed Alex several times, might I add. Sabina Pleasure, who is mentioned here a couple times, is his girlfriend who, sadly, moved to 'Frisco. I'm not a big shipper of AxS, but it's practically the only canon pairing, besides Wolf (an SAS soldier) and Jack (who called him hunky in the movie). Anyway, Jack isn't quite the mother figure…she's twenty-eight or something, but they're more like siblings or best friend. She used to be his housekeeper/babysitter, but became his guardian when his uncle was killed by the Scorpiaminion!Russian!assassin!Yassen Gregorovich, or "Assassin Yassen" as I like to say :P And then, of course, Yassen goes and saves Alex's life, like, a million times, before an evil pop star blows up Air Force One and shoots Yassen dead because Yassen didn't kill Alex, because Yassen and Alex's dad John were BFFs when John infiltrated Scorpia and was commanded to train Yassen…and John saved Yassen's life on a mission, too. In any case, Yassen didn't kill Alex because, like I said, Yassen and John were best friends, and because John saved Yassen's life, so he felt he owed it to Alex to save his life…albeit several times. Some people feel this warrants Alex/Yassen shipping, but that's…no. Just no. You know I support a lot of canon slash/femmeslash ships -pokes A Great and Terrible Beauty, HP, and Tamora Pierce- and some noncanon –cough-Rodolphus/Rabastan, Morzan/Galbatorix -cough- ANYWAY, that Twilight fandom rant…um…the first chappie is ten pages long, and it isn't done…so…yeah. READ THESE BOOKS (AND WATCH THE MOVIE)!

**ToiletFacility: **-cackles evilly- I would give a lot to see Alex Pettyfer without a shirt XD JKJK.

**TheNotedMusician:** Yes, I am. Thank you for noticing :)

**Eric J. Alderson: **Ha ha, yes. Well…it won't all be Scorpia…there's a new faction on the rise…and Blunt, boy oh boy, was he fun to write.

**R&R!**

**Sienna**


	3. I'm A Big Kid Now

**SUPERNOVA**

**DISCLAIMER: I'm not AH. I think that's kind of obvious.**

**CHAPTER THREE**

**I'M A BIG KID NOW**

"So what is it this time?" asked Alex, sighing, sitting at Blunt's desk in MI6 headquarters. "Let me guess, you want me to water your plants when you're away on vacation. They surely need it," he added, poking one of the dead plants on the desk.

"I don't take vacations, Mr. Rider," said Blunt tightly.

"And it's a sad thing too. You know, I had a great time on Skeleton Key, except for the fact that I was nearly killed every minute or so and I had to stop an evil psychopath—who wanted to adopt me, incidentally—from blowing up half of Europe. But the beaches were fantastic—"

"Alex, don't be smart," ordered Mrs. Jones, almost as if she was his mother.

"Can I be snarky then? Or argumentative? Or should I settle for being a manipulative, devious, ruthless machine? Maybe I should leave that to you. You seem to have it down pat."

"Alex. Stop."

"I can't help it. I was born with a witty sense of sarcasm, a huge intellect, and the gift of being incredibly attractive."

"Without, evidently, a modicum of modesty," observed Blunt dryly.

"It doesn't go with the territory," agreed Alex.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Mrs. Jones sat down too, and folded her hands in her lap. She was sucking on yet another peppermint.

"You're not sorry about anything, Mrs. Jones," the boy stated.

"I can think of one thing," she replied. "I'm sorry that we turned you into this."

"I was _born _like this. It's in my genes . You knew my father, of course. You kept secrets about him from me for years and years, until I was forced to join Scorpia because I had been led to believe you had killed him...yes, that would come under the heading of 'knowing' him. In any case, I take after him. I'm heart-stoppingly handsome. I've got an amazing intelligence…and, sadly enough, the skills of a spy."

Alex was putting on a façade—a sarcastic, conceited shell, a shield that hid the raw pain, the vulnerability inside him. He knew these people could do anything they wanted. They'd manipulated him and forced their hand too often for him to trust them—if anything, he felt the opposite. The wall he'd built between himself and reality was fragile, threatening to shatter at any moment.

Mrs. Jones rattled off a list, all calculation, no feeling. "Without those 'skills', all England would be dead from smallpox, Washington would be a wreckage, Europe would be a radioactive fallout zone ten times worse than the aftermath of Chernobyl, the world would be run by sixteen super-rich, evil clones of Dr. Grief, I would be dead—"

Alex cut her off with a sneer. "The greatest tragedy of all."

"Alex, can you listen to me, please?" pleaded Mrs. Jones. Alex hesitated, then sat back and insolently put his feet up on the desk.

"I'm all ears. And did I mention insanely good looks?"

"ALEX." Mrs. Jones closed her eyes for a second. "We need you to do something for us. We can't do it…but you can."

"What? Dress in clothes from this decade?" scoffed Alex, eyeing the agents' boxy, outdated clothes.

"We were thinking more…save the world."

"Because _that's _something I do every day. Note the _non-_sarcasm."

"You've done it at least five times in the past year. That's quite an impressive resume."

"Excellent. I'm sure McDonalds will take that into account when I apply for a job there. I'll smoke the rest of the competition for burger-flipping."

"The way things are going…hopefully, you'll be with us instead of McDonalds."

Alex stood up, serious, grim. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned in towards the government officials. He kept his voice low, but spoke in a determined, forceful tone. "I will _never_ be one of you. If that's what you brought me here a year ago to become, I'm leaving this place. Now and forever."

He walked out before they could stop him, half-formed thoughts running through his mind. Sure, they probably had a legitimate mission for him…and yet, he was afraid that the more assignments he undertook, the more he'd turn into the same lifeless, ruthless machine as the two agents he knew.

He couldn't risk that.

He power-walked to the entrance of the Royal & General, where he was met by a bulky security guard with a silly uniform. _Like they need him with a hundred deadly agents in the building, _scoffed Alex inwardly.

But was he counted among their number?

"Going somewhere, m'boy?" asked the guard with a mockery of geniality.

"Yeah." Alex did not want to have to kick the man in the balls and start a mini-war within the faux bank, but if this continued, it might be his only option.

"Jones and Blunt aren't done with you yet, m'boy."

"Why is everyone calling me that today?" inquired Alex of the world, truly irritated now.

"You _are _a boy," pointed out the guard reasonably.

"Yes," replied Alex. "A very well-trained one." He kicked the man aside, stepping over him when he fell. He was met by two plainclothes agents that he took down quickly with a couple karate chops. More and more MI6 agents were converging on the scene, shouting, yelling orders—it was mayhem, just as Alex had predicted. Special operatives were elbowing each other, trying to pull out guns in the melee, while Alex slipped away through the doors, leaving chaos in his wake.

"Alex! Alex!"

Alex looked up in surprise. Mrs. Jones was leaning out of a window, all decorum and secrecy abandoned in her urgency to talk to him. "You don't understand, Alex! These are higher stakes than ever before! It's not just Scorpia—"

Alex was done with the lot of them. Scorpia could blow up the world and take him with it for all he cared. He opened his mouth and yelled one last parting shot.

"Scorpia can go screw themselves. And so can you."

He caught one look of hopelessness—and oddly enough, _pain_— on her face before he turned away and lost himself in the crowd, never to darken the doorstep of Royal & General again.

**A/N: Oh, I love Alex in this chapter. He's done with MI6…or is he? And I have a sneaking suspicion the "well-trained boy" line came from somewhere, but I can't think of where…oh well. I did make him snarkier and ruder than normal, but hey, I'd be pretty fed up too. I had fun writing this one…oh, and thanks to the Stormbreaker movie for the kick-the-guard-in-the-balls thing. **

**Review reply time!**

**TheNotedMusician: **Why thank you. Uh…don't think I've seen the movies. They're the ones with Matt Damon right?

**Jazz_Dancer: **Et voila!

**Cookies to any of you who caught the Mortal Instruments reference last chapter.**

**Next chapter: Things go boom (!!), Alex wears a tux (!!), and Jack cusses (!!). **

**Sienna**


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